


Are you naked under that coat?

by TooManyChoices



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, First Kiss, Humor, Multi, OT3, Sherlock's Coat, Threesome - F/M/M, Watson's sex-holiday
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-30
Updated: 2014-09-24
Packaged: 2018-02-11 01:27:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2048046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TooManyChoices/pseuds/TooManyChoices
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Watson's have just returned from their 'sex-holiday' honeymoon. Meanwhile, the mystery of 'who washes Sherlock's clothes' remains unsolved.<br/>This is NOT BBC canon Mary, this is happily-ever-after-land where everyone ends up getting what they want...and so do I.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. There's room for three

_Well, that’s disappointing_ …thought Sherlock as he stared, for the third time, at his virtually empty wardrobe.

Sherlock’s supply of clean shirts and underwear had been steadily diminishing for several weeks. Ever since John and Mary left on their ‘sex-holiday’ and Mrs Hudson had decided to join Mrs Turner on her jaunt to the Greek isles… _probably NOT a sex-holiday but the relationship between the two women was suspiciously close._

Now, the reality needed to be faced; whomever ‘took care’ of the washing….wasn’t doing it and the situation had progressed beyond serious to dire. Sherlock looked plaintively at the washing basket behind him, silently begging for a clean shirt to materialise on the top of the overflowing pile. It didn't.

 _Well, it can’t be helped._ Given John and Mary were due back that afternoon, spending another day naked wasn't an option. There were two alternatives:

  *         Make the long, BORING, trip to the laundrette. Wash and dry his clothes and proceed with his experiments.
  *         Make do.



@@@@@@

“Sherlock…we’re home!” John’s bright voice echoed up the stairs as two sets of feet and several suitcases navigated the stairs from the front door to 221B.

 _Cheerful -The trip went well (lots of sex)….. Mary’s with him and not waiting in the cab - Not in a hurry to get home…..Bringing the luggage up – the cab’s been dismissed._ Sherlock put the kettle on and returned to the table.

John and Mary clattered through the open door dragging two suitcases, before John collapsed on the couch and Mary perched on the arm, both looking toward the kitchen and the now sole-resident of 221B.

There was a pause as it became apparent that Sherlock had no intention of interrupting his experiment.

“Sherlock?”

“Yes John?” the voice carried from the kitchen to the lounge-room, slightly muffled as Sherlock’s head bent over his microscope.

“We’re home.”

“Obviously.”

“Would you like to hear about our trip?”

“About the various forms of intercourse you’ve engaged in and the locations involved. Let me think…” Sherlock added in mock consideration, “…No, I don’t think so.”

Mary snorted and stifled a laugh as John huffed in exasperation, “I was thinking more that you’d like to see some photos…”

Sherlock’s head rose slowly from the eyepieces and he turned to look quizzically at the happy couple in the other room, “You have…photos…of the two of you having sex …that you think I want to see?”

“What?.....No! Jesus Sherlock….”

Mary, by this point has slid ungracefully from the arm of the sofa to John’s lap as tears coursed down her cheeks and she gasped for air between helpless laughs. “Oh Sherlock, I’ve missed you.”

She levered herself off the couch, and padded to the kitchen, stopping by the table and nudging the tall man on the shoulder, “Come on you…up. I want a hug.”

Sherlock rose gracefully from the chair and enfolded the slight woman in his arms, pressing his curly head fondly against hers.

Mary stiffened in his arms and pulled back slightly looking up, “Umm..Sherlock. Can I ask a question?”

“Hmmm?”

“Two questions really…Why do you have your coat on inside?” she toyed with the heavy material of his Belstaff coat between her fingers. And…..” She tilted her head and closed her eyes briefly and mumbled, “I can’t believe I’m going to say this…Is it because you have nothing on under it?”

John’s confused voice came from the other room, “What?”

Sherlock took a step back out of Mary’s arms, looking uncomfortable but not repentant, “To answer your second question first, therefore clearing up both……Yes.”

John’s voice rose in escalating incredulity, “Yes? Yes what?”

“Yes….I have nothing on under this coat. Really John, there’s no need for hysterics.”

John joined his wife in the kitchen, gathering her to his side and muttered, “Why am I surprised?....Nothing you ever do should surprise me anymore.”

Mary was hiding a smile behind her hand and leaning against John’s shoulder. She had begun openly assessing the man in front of her, her eyes drifting down the length of his coat to his bare feet and shins visible below the hem. She nudged John playfully in his ribs and they shared a quiet but meaningful look.

John smiled in fond exasperation at his ex-flatmate and eying the buttons on his coat, “Can I ask…WHY you have nothing on under this?”

“Obvious….I’m out of clean clothes.”

“You’re out of……” John shook his head wonderingly.

Mary leaned to whisper soto-voice in her husband’s ear, “I think such a practical solution deserves a reward.”

There was another shared look, John’s suddenly serious eyes meeting Mary’s as she nodded  slowly and broke into a grin. Sherlock watched the exchange as he silently deduced the wordless communication between the couple.

_A reward? What is she talking about…Why would she reward me for running out of clothes? Oh…It’s not a reward for running out of clothes, it’s for being naked under the coat….Why would that deserve a reward?...She finds me attractive? She finds me ATTRACTIVE….She’s aware of the attraction her husband has for me, and mine to him…..What is she suggesting as a reward? OH! …This isn’t the first time they’ve considered this….They’ve talked about taking me to bed with them….This is just the catalyst….No..surely not…but…yet…my reasoning is flawless..as is my conclusion._

John’s eyes came to rest on Sherlock’s, wicked delight sparkling in their blue depths as he watched Sherlock's hesitant realisation. Mary kissed her husband’s cheek in encouragement and John stepped forward, firmly grasped the lapels of the familiar coat and asked huskily, "You'd be OK with this..Yeah?"

Sherlock looked down at the man he'd wanted for years and then past him to the woman that was now his best friend's wife. Seeing no lingering sign of doubt in either of their faces he nodded decisively and covered John's hands with his own, drawing the shorter man closer still and pulling him up on his toes.

Sparing one final glance to the woman behind John, and seeing her heated expression as she nodded to him, he lowered his lips to John's. There was a trembling groan from the man under his hands and a hushed feminine gasp of excitement just beyond his shoulder as Mary stepped closer to their combined warmth, wordlessly begging to join them.

Sherlock looked up and reached a hand out to her, taking hers in his and drawing the three of them more tightly together.

While Mary alternated kisses between her husband and the man who would shortly become far more than a family friend, John worked on the buttons of Sherlock's coat, pausing as the triangle of pale skin grew with the release of each one. Sherlock moaned against Mary's mouth as John sucked at the skin of his collarbone, the sharp sting telling him there'd be a mark there come morning. He could feel Mary smile against him as John worried at an exposed nipple and Sherlock drew a sudden ragged breath from between her lips.

As Sherlock was distracted by their combined assault, Mary's nimble fingers worked at John's jeans, releasing the button and dragging down the fly.

"Bedroom.....Damn it, you two.....Bedroom..right now." Sherlock buried his head against Mary's neck trying to grab some much needed oxygen.

John stepped away, surveying with a delighted grin the wide expanse of English skin exposed from neck to navel, only the lowest button valiantly protecting the detective's modestly. He looked to his wife and gave her a heated kiss, "You know the way Mary...lead on, love."

Sherlock looked briefly at the woman striding purposefully toward his room, her stance confident and her arse swaying seductively in snug trousers as she went, before the voice next to him drew his attention back.

"She's something else, isn't she." The tone was warm and admiring.

"Clearly more than I deduced. Are you sure about this John?"

The easy laugh almost dispelled the remaining tension Sherlock had, "More than sure." He leaned in conspiratorially and added lightly, "She's a handful...I'm not sure I can keep up with her alone, and God knows...I could do with a hand to keep you sorted."

Although he appreciated John's efforts to set him at ease, he needed to be sure before they took this further, "John.....This can't be a casual thing for me. Please, I need to know what this is."

John turned to look at him, the playfulness dropped from his face and his tone became serious, "Then let me make this clear Sherlock, we want this. She wants it, I want it and we both know you want it. There's room here.." he tapped on Sherlock's chest, "...for all three of us. Will you have us?"

Sherlock drew John to him, gathering him into his arms and whispering, "Oh God yes. Beyond measure, I want this."

"Then if you're OK with it, I'd quite like to take you and my wife to bed."

Before Sherlock could answer, Mary called from the darkness beyond the open door of Sherlock's bedroom, "If you boys have finished overthinking the situation...I need a man in here. My tits are getting cold."

John snorted and shook his head, looking up with shining eyes, "See....something else."

Sherlock smiled back as he took John's hand and led him down the hall, "You're right John, you're going to need help."

"Lots of help." John muttered trailing after him.

"Lots and lots."


	2. Chapter 2

John stood in the doorway to Sherlock's bedroom, flies undone but jeans still valiantly clinging to his hips. Sherlock stood snug behind him gazing past to where Mary lay on the bed. She'd divested herself of her clothes and was now hedonistically lounging on the bed, nipples pebbled in the chill breeze. 

"Are you boys going to stand there all day staring because I, for one, can think of better uses for our time."

Sherlock lowered his forehead to John's shoulder and shook it, chuckling as he did so. "She's not backward about being forward, is she?"

"No....no she's not. She's pointed out that I have a thing for...assertive...partners." John shed his clothes in a remarkably matter-of-fact manner.

"Pushy....he means pushy Sherlock, he's just being kind."

John stepped forward to kneel on the bed, next to his wife, "Well, now I have two of you, so I think that should be enough for even me."

Sherlock stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. As two sets of eyes watched from the bed, he thumbed open the one remaining button on his Belstaff and as the two sides fell open, there was quiet noises of appreciation from the bed. He watched as both Watsons raked his body with hungry looks.

Mary had rolled over and wound an arm around John's body, idly stroking his erection, "He's gorgeous John."

John simply nodded dumbly and reached out a hand, grasping at the bottom of the coat and drawing Sherlock to the bed.

Sherlock stepped forward willingly, any nervousness departing under the feel of enthusiastic hands smoothing up his thighs still mostly hidden within the heavy fabric.

Both John and Mary knelt up further on the bed in front of Sherlock and with gentle hands, pushed open the lapels, and eased the edges over shoulders, letting gravity then pull the coat to the floor in a puddle of deep blue cashmere, leaving the tall man naked before them.

"Do you know how long I've wanted to do this, Sherlock? I never thought you'd let me." John whispered as he nuzzled against Sherlock's bare chest, nosing along his collarbones.

"You never asked." Sherlock had buried his nose into the short hairs behind John's ear as his hands skimmed alongside Mary's where they rested at John's hips as she cuddled up behind him.

"Probably never would have, if Mary hadn't told me how you felt." John was breathing deeply now, clearly revelling in the feel of so many hands on his skin.

"Mmmmm, Mary...Which reminds me...." Sherlock untangled one of Mary's arms from her husband and used it to draw her forward so he had them both clasped against him. Kisses were exchanged in heated silence, all three giving and taking in equal measure, any semblance of control slipping away in moans of greedy need long denied.

"Love," Mary muttered to John, "If we don't get Sherlock on this bed soon, he's going to be on the floor."

John chuckled, she was right. An unconscious trembling had been building in Sherlock's thighs for some minutes as his breathing became increasingly laboured as they continued to touch, and stroke and kiss at the wide expanses of pale skin. Pulling back, John drew their friend down on the bed with the lure of continued contact with his lips, and Sherlock followed willingly, settling between them.

"Still OK?" John's darker eyes met Sherlock's pale ones, both dilated in the dimness of the room. "Too much?"

"Good....I'm...good....It's been....a while. What..." Sherlock cleared his throat huskily, "..What did you two have in mind? I'm at your mercy it seems."

Mary laughed brightly as she watched the tender moment between the two men. "Oh Sherlock, darling, you still don't understand. This is as much about you as us. Tell us what you want."

His brow furrowed briefly, scrabbling thoughts together in the quiet of the room, "I want....God...I want.."

"Come on, Sherlock." John urged gently between kisses of encouragement, "You can have anything, just ask."

Sherlock's answer was almost whispered between gritted teeth, "I want to see the two of you together....I need to...." Sherlock huffed the words, almost overcome with so many unfamiliar sensations in rapid succession, "...I'll.....I'm...Christ..It's..."

"Shhh..Shhh." John's gentle hands steadied Sherlock's face between his palms, "It's OK, we've got you...It's fine..it's all fine." John looked at Mary, "We'll take it slow, yeah? Nice and slow."

Sherlock nodded shakily back, a blush creeping up his neck. Mary smoothed calming hands up and down his arms, and Sherlock sighed and leaned into the less intimate touch.

John placed a quick kiss on Sherlock's and then Mary's lips, more chaste than previously, and took the moment to regroup, "OK, let's try this.....so everyone's a bit more comfortable." John threw pillows against the headboard. He murmured a quiet thanks that Sherlock tended to accumulate an unlikely number of them so he could work late into the night in contentment. Scooting up to the headboard, John leaned against the stack of pillows, so he lay partially reclined. "Come here, love." he beckoned to Mary and she enthusiastically crawled over to straddle his hips. 

"Oh, that's lovely John." She ground against him briefly and grinned wickedly as he drew a sharp hissed breath.

"Sherlock, you can do....well..you can decide as we go along. You can watch, you can join in..don't worry about barging in....we want you here with us, whatever makes you happy is what we want. No pressure, OK?"

Sherlock nodded hungrily, seemingly more at ease now he wasn't the centre of attention. 

Mary looked fondly at their friend, "Don't be afraid to touch Sherlock, I dream of those musician's fingers on me," She lifted a hand and kissed the fingertips one at a time. "As much or as little as you want, as long as you're enjoying it."

Mary touched her husband gently, his erection having flagged during the brief respite, and he swiftly responded. She grinned and leaned to kiss him as he canted his hips upward, instinctively seeking his warmth. Sherlock touched tentative hands to Mary's back and then moved them in longer more assured strokes as she arched against his touch, shivering at the feeling. 

 

Sitting up, Mary lifted herself and sunk down, breathing deeply in contentment as John filled her. John's hands came up to cup her breasts, teasing over the nipples and he smiled as Sherlock watched them harden before his eyes in obvious fascination. He lifted a hand toward Mary but then paused until John took his hand and guided it to mimic his movements. 

Sherlock shifted idly on the bed next to them, clearly aroused by John and his wife taking pleasure in each other and John ran a hand up Sherlock's thigh, slowing as he neared the detective's crotch, unwilling to move further without permission. He needn't have worried as Sherlock wriggled closer and moved John's hand to his erection, groaning at the now welcome pressure.

Mary meanwhile, had begun rocking back and forward, moving John shallowly, keeping to their commitment of taking things slow. She watched as her husband and their new lover gazed at each other, learning Sherlock's likes and dislikes, his limits and boundaries. She idly lowered her own hand, toying within her own folds and increasing her own pleasure.

"God, John..." Sherlock's deep voice cut through the silence with such longing, such need that John groaned and thrust upward in reaction. "I....can I.."

John's voice was husky, "Can you what, what do you need?" 

Sherlock's gaze flicked to John's mouth, and his blush deepened.

"Fuck, Sherlock...come here." John ground out as Mary continued to move on him, panting as her pleasure built. "OK Mary?"

She nodded roughly, "Oh yeah, I want to see this."

Sherlock moved quickly, gracefully swinging a leg over John and balancing on his knees over John's torso, bringing his now swollen penis in line with John's face. Mary placed a kiss against Sherlock's back and he shuddered against the unexpected sensation.

"Jesus Sherlock, that's the most gorgeous view I've ever seen." He leaned forward to place a greedy kiss on the length in front of him.

"Nfffgghh...John." Sherlock made an abortive reflex thrust forward."..Please.."

Not needing to be asked twice, John opening his mouth to capture Sherlock's erection, closing around the head as the detective hissed and swore, before sinking as far down the length as he could manage without gagging.

The sounds of skin slapping against skin, muttered curses, words of love and benedictions spilled from the three lovers. Mary ran fingernails down Sherlock's lean back, leaving red marks before leaning to lay her cheek against his spine and listening to his panted breath whistle in his lungs. John steadied Sherlock in his mouth with one hand, using the other to brace himself against the bed. Sherlock had placed both hands on the headboard to stabilise himself as he carefully but deliberately fucked John's mouth.

Mary came first, her high keening cry of joy bursting from her into the dim room. Her shuddering muscles wringing John's own orgasm from him and with a grunted, hum of bliss around Sherlock's cock, he sucked once more at he head and shivered again as he felt Sherlock come down his throat with a shout of ecstasy. Mary's arms were quick to wind around their tall lover as he threatened to slump over in a post-orgasm haze, as John lay with his head back against the headboard, gasping for breath through the aftershocks.

All three managed to untangle themselves, cuddling together under Sherlock's blankets, finding comfort and acceptance in this strange new arrangement. Gentle fingers touched and wound into others. Peace descended as night fell, leaving questions unanswered.


End file.
